AN 


ADDRESS 


DELIVERED  BEFORE  THE 


.y/BTMIODIST  BJBJTB t'OLK.VT  SOCMBTl', 


AT  THEIR 


ANNIVERSARY  MEETING, 


In  the  Methodist  Protestant  Church,  in  AVeut  worth-Strect, 


ON  THE  1st  MONDAY  IN  JULY,  1835. 


PUBLISHED  BY  REQUEST. 


CHARLESTON : , 

PRINTED  BY  E.  J.  VAN  BRUNT- 

No.  121  East-Bay. 


1835, 


CHARLESTON,  July  10th,  1S5# 


HOW.  II.  L.  PINCKNEY. 

DEAR  SIR, 

At  a Meeting  of  the  Methodist  Bonevolent  Society,  held  last  Evening,  the  following  Reiolu' 
tions  were  unanimously  adopted 

Resolved , That  the  thanks  of  this  Society  are  due  to  the  Hon.  H.  L.  Pincknev,  for  his  appro- 
priate and  eloquent  Address,  delivered  in  behalf  of  the’Socicty,  at  their  Anniversary  on  Monday 
Evening  last. 

Resolved , That  a Committee  be  appointed  to  communicate  the  foregoing  to  Mr.  Pinckney, 
and  to  solicit  from  him,  (in  the  name  of  the  Society,)  a copy  of  his  Address  for  publication. 

In  performing  the  duty  assigned  us  (as  the  Committee,)  we  beg  leave  to  add  the  expression  of 
our  individual  feelings  by  tendering  you  our  warmest  thanks  for  your  gonerous  effort,  and 
talented  display,  in  the  cause  of  suffering  humanity.  Such  zeal  in  such  a cause,  calls  for  more 
than  our  humble  commendation.  Allow  us  now,  in  the  namo  of  the  Society,  to  increase  our 
indebtedness  to  you,  by  requesting  a copy  of  the  Address  for  publication. 

With  sentiments  of  sincere  regard  and  esteem,  we  are 
Very  Respectfully,  Yours, 

JOHN  KINGMAN,  A 
W.  LAVAL,  f „ 

Wm.  MOOD,  ( Committee. 

JOHN  H.  HONOUR.  ) 


July  13th,  1835. 

GENTLEMEN 

I have  received  your  favour,  inclosing  a Resolution  of  the  Methodist  Benevolent  Society,  by 
which  I am  requested  to  furnish,  for  publication,  a copy  of  tho  Address  I delivered  at  the  late 
Anniversary.  In  reply  I have  only  to  soy  that  I fcol  much  obligod  by  the  kind  opinion  the 
Society  has  been  pleased  to  express  concerning  it,  and  that  if  they  doom  it  of  any  service  to  tho 
excellent  cause  of  Christian  Benevolence,  it  is  at  their  disposal.  Permit  mo  also  to  thank  you 
for  the  very  kind  and  flattering  manner  in  which  you  have  communicatod  tho  dosire  of  the 
Society,  and  believe  me,  with  respectful  and-friendly  regards, 

Yours  truly, 

II.  L.  riNCKNEY. 

To 

JOHN  KINGMAN, 

VV.  LAVAL, 

Wm.  MOOD, 

JOHN  H.  HONOUR. 


Committee. 


ADDRESS. 


GENTLEMEN 

Before  I proceed  to  the  remarks  I design  to  offer,  permit  me 
to  thank  you  for  your  kindness  in  having  appointed  me  to  address 
you  upon  this  occasion.  To  be  connected  with  your  Association 
is  an  honor  of  which  any  individual  may  be  justly  proud,  and  for 
the  very  gratifying  manner  in  which  the  privilege  of  membership* 
has  been  conferred  upon  me,  I beg  leave  to  tender  you  my  most 
grateful  acknowledgment.  The  cause  in  which  you  are  en- 
gaged is  one  of  the  purest  and  noblest  to  which  the  efforts  of 
rational  and  accountable  creatures  can  be  directed.  It  not  only 
has  its  origin  in  the  most  amiable  principles  of  our  nature,  but  it  is 
equally  sanctioned  and  enjoined  by  the  dictates  of  reason  and  the 
requisitions  of  religion.  In  such  a cause,  therefore,  I am  happy 
to  be  enlisted  as  a humble  coadjutor. 

The  theme  of  Benevolence,  it  is  true,  is  destitute  of  novelty ; 
but  it  is  not,  therefore,  deficient  in  importance  or  in  interest. 
Generally  speaking,  indeed,  those  subjects  that  are  most  familiar, 
are  the  most  important,  and  a topic  will  be  found  to  be  either 
trite  or  otherwise  in  proportion  to  its  connection  with  the  welfare 
of  society.  What,  for  instance,  can  be  more  familiar  to  our 
thoughts  or  senses,  than  the  works  of  nature  ! yet  where  is  the 
mind  that  is  not  constantly  filled  with  their  importance,  or  the 
poetic  eye  that  does  not  daily  discover  new  sources  of  pleasure 
in  their  loveliness  ! And  how  little  interest  would  even  the  living 


*Mr.  P.,  prior  to  hi*  appointment  to  deliver  the  Address,  had  bee*  elected  a« 
honorary  member. 


1 


oracles  of  truth  possess,  if  novelty  alone  were  necessary  to  impart 
it ! yet  where  is  the  heart  that  is  not  always  warmed  and  expand- 
ed, as  it  rises  from  the  wonders  of  creation  to  the  still  greater 
wonders  of  redemption,  and  contemplates  the  God  of  nature  in 
the  still  more  attractive  character  of  the  God  of  Love  ! 

As  the  want  of  novelty,  therefore,  cannot  destroy  the  intrinsic 
importance  and  abiding  interest  either  of  the  works  of  nature  or  the 
tenets  of  religion,  so  neither  can  it  affect  the  everspringing  attrac- 
tion of  benevolence,  because  it  is  identified  with  all  that  is  useful 
and  lovely  in  the  one,  and  with  all  that  is  high  and  holy  in  the 
other.  Yes,  this  is  the  great  principle  that  regulates  the  universe. 
This  is  the  great  principle  that  lies  at  the  foundation,  and  directs 
the  operations,  both  of  the  natural  and  moral  government  of  God. 
How  else  can  we  account  for  the  existence  of  the  material  uni- 
verse, or  of  animated  nature,  or  of  the  mental  and  moral  faculties 
of  man  ! What  is  it  that  created  so  many  systems  upon  systems, 
worlds  on  worlds,  and  that  still  sustains  and  controls  them,  in 
all  their  exquisite  symmetry,  and  harmonious  arrangement!  What 
is  it  that  addresses  us  in  the  music  of  the  spheres,  or  attracts  and 
dazzles  in  the  lustre  of  the  firmament ! What  is  it  that  arrays  the 
sun  in  gorgeous  splendour,  as  he  springs,  like  a bridegroom,  from 
the  chambers  of  the  East,  or  the  moon  in  mild  and  gentle  majesty, 
as  she  nightly  repeats  the  story  of  her  birth,  or  spreads  out  the 
stars,  in  a sea  of  glory,  as  they  twinkle  sweetly  in  the  blue  con- 
cave, singing  to  each  other  the  divinity  that  made  them  ! What  is 
it  that  stretches  out  the  curtains  of  the  sky,  and  decorates  the 
earth  with  every  form  of  loveliness  and  every  variety  of  charm  ! 
What  is  it  that  regulates  the  rolling  seasons  as  they  change,  the 
majestic  ocean  as  it  ebbs  and  flows,  and  the  invisible  but  prolific 
element  that  surrounds  us,  every  breath  of  which  is  replete  with 
life ! What  is  it  that  paints  the  flowers  of  the  field,  or  mellows  the 
fruits  that  regale  our  senses,  or  imparts  its  fragrance  to  the  refresh- 
ing zephyr  of  the  morn,  or  gives  all  its  sweetness  to  the  melody  of 
birds  ! What  is  it,  in  short,  that  we  perceive  in  every  thing  around 
us — in  the  air,  the  ocean,  and  the  earth — in  all  that  we  have,  and 
all  that  we  are — in  a world  abounding  with  blessings,  and  in  ah 


the  various  faculties  of  man  so  admirably  adapted  to  enjoy  them — 
in  the  comforts  of  civilization,  and  the  elegancies  of  refinement — in 
the  pleasures  of  friendship,  of  the  domestic  circle,  and  of  social  in- 
tercourse— in  literature,  science,  and  the  arts — in  mild  and  equal 
laws  and  regulated  freedom — and  in  every  thing,  in  fact,  physical, 
intellectual,  and  moral,  which  can  gladden  the  heart  and  enrich 
the  mind,  promote  the  happiness  of  individuals,  or  elevate  the 
condition,  and  establish  the  security,  of  social,  civil,  or  political 
society  ! What  is  it  but  the  all-pervading  principle  of  divine  be- 
nevolence ! And  as  this  principle  is  thus  incorporated  in  all  the 
movements  of  the  physical  world,  in  all  the  endowments  and  en- 
joyments of  intelligent  creatures,  and  in  all  the  institutions  and 
advantages  of  civil  society,  so  is  it-still  more  conspicuously  mani- 
fested in  the  amazing  redemption  of  our  apostate  race  through 
the  atoning  sacrifice  of  the  Son  of  God.  Oh  what  was  it  but  this 
that  pitied  us,  ichen  there  was  no  eye  to  pity,  and  that  brought  salva- 
tion, when  there  was  no  arm  to  save  ! What  was  it  but  this  that 
brought  the  Redeemer  from  his  starry  throne,  and  buried  the  glory 
of  his  godhead  in  the  humiliating  assumption  of  the  form  of  man ! 
What  was  it  but  this  that  the  angels  sang,  when  they  announced 
his  birth,  and  that  He  himself  proclaimed,  as  he  ascended  into 
Heaven  ! What  was  it  but  this  that  gushed  from  the  rich  fountain 
of  his  bleeding  heart,  when  he  expired  upon  the  tree,  and  what  is 
it  but  this  that  now  ever  lives  and  reigns,  at  the  right  hand  of  God. 
to  make  intercession  for  transgressors  ! 

Oh,  for  this  love  let  rocks  and  hills 

Their  lasting  silence  break. 

And  all  harmonious  human  tongues 

The  Saviour’s  praises  speak  ! 

Benevolence,  then,  constitutes  an  essential  feature  of  the  Chris- 
tian scheme,  and,  indeed,  it  belongs  emphatically  to  the  Christian 
era.  Before  the  introduction  of  Christianity,  the  divine  injunc- 
tion, Thou  shalt  love  thy  neighbour  as  thyself,  had  never  been 
known  or  regarded  as  a principle  of  moral  or  religious  obligation  ; 
nor,  until  then,  had  there  ever  existed  a system  whose  vitality 
consisted  in  visiting  the  widow  and  the  fathv.lcss  in  their  affliction. 


6 


or  of  which  it  was  declared  that  the  main  pillars  were  faith,  hope , 
and  charity,  but  of  these  the  greatest  is  charity.  On  the  contrary, 
paganism  was  the  prevailing  religion  of  the  world,  and  under  its 
debasing  and  demoralizing  influence,  the  world  had  long  lain 
buried  in  darkness  and  enchained  in  vice — filled  with  the  habita- 
tions of  cruelty,  and  literally  overrun  with  abomination  and  pollu- 
tion. And  what  was  it  that  expelled  that  darkness,  and  dissolved 
those  chains  ! What  was  it  that  produced  those  great  moral  revo- 
lutions, of  which  we  perceive  and  enjoy  the  fruits,  in  the  enlighten- 
ed and  refined  condition  of  the  Christian  portions  of  the  globe  ! 
What  was  it  that  abolished  all  the  unnatural  practices  and  barba- 
rous customs,  the  foul  superstitions  and  infernal  rites,  by  which 
former  ages  had  been  sunk  in  the  profoundest  depths  of  moral 
degradation — and  that  not  only  abolished  them,  but  erected  on 
their  ruins,  and  substituted  in  their  places,  all  those  correct  con- 
ceptions and  elevated  sentiments,  all  those  philanthropic  princi- 
ples, practices,  and  institutions,  by  which  Christian  society  is 
decorated  as  a moral  firmament  with  stars,  and  by  which  Chris- 
tian nations  have  been  raised  to  an  immeasurable  height,  above 
the  unhappy  and  degraded  regions  in  which  Pagan  and  Mahome- 
tan delusions  still  prevail ! What,  but  the  benignant  spirit  of  the 
Gospel ! And  what  is  it  that  shines  so  sweetly  in  all  those  noble 
institutions  which  Christian  piety  has  dedicated  to  the  glory  of 
God  and  the  good  of  man  ! What  is  it  that  finds  fathers  for  the 
fatherless,  homes  for  the  houseless,  a haven  of  rest  for  those  who 
know  not  where  to  lay  their  heads  ! What  is  it  that  succours  the 
afflicted  and  relieves  the  sick,  teaches  the  dumb  to  speak  and  the 
deaf  to  hear,  preaches  the  Gospel  to  the  poor,  educates  their 
offspring,  and  makes  them  virtuous  and  useful  members  of  society  ! 
What  is  it  that  brings  little  children  to  the  Redeemer,  and  puts 
them  in  his  arms — despatches  myriads  of  messengers,  upon  the 
wings  of  love,  to  proclaim  salvation  through  a fallen  world — 
disseminates  the  word  of  life,  in  every  tongue,  that  it  may  be 
understood  and  embraced  by  every  people — and  sends  hosts  of 
devoted  martyrs,  with  their  lives  in  their  hands,  to  the  Isles  of  the 
sea*  mid  the  ends  of  the. earth,  to  preach  the  GosjhI  to  every  creature! 


7 


Wlmt  is  it  that  arrests  the  baleful  progress  of  intemperance — 
combats  vice  and  iniquity  in  every  form— instructs  the  ignorant 
and  reclaims  the  dissolute — and  hoisting,  the  banner  of  the  cross 
upon  the  ocean,  as  well  as  on  the  land,  gathers  the  abundance  of 
the  sea  to  God,  and  causes  the  hymn  of  thanksgiving  to  ascend, 
from  the  bosom  of  the  great  deep,  to  Hun  who  holds  the  world  of 
waters  in  his  hand  ! What  is  it,  in  one  word,  that  has  organized, 
and  keeps  in  operation,  so  many  and  such  admirable  engines,  for 
the  moral  and  religious  renovation  of  the  world  ; and  that  has 
invaded,  and  will  continue  to  overturn,  every  kingdom  of  darkness 
and  system  of  delusion,  driving  the  false  prophet  from  his  mosques 
and  dumb  idols  from  their  thrones,  ’till  lie,  whose  right  it  is  to  reign, 
shall  have  the  heathen  Jor  his  inheritance,  and  the  ends  of  the  earth 
for  his  possession,  and  until  the  whole  world,  regenerated  and  dis- 
enthralled, shall  rise  from  ignorance  to  knowledge  and  from  vice 
to  virtue,  from  the  debasing  bonds  and  deathlike  gloom  of  super- 
stition and  fanaticism  to  the  marvellous  light  and  glorious  liberty  of 
the  Christian  religion  ! What,  but  this  same  spirit  of  Christian  be- 
nevolence ! And  is  all  this  nothing ! Shall  men  engage  with 
ardour  in  the  fleeting  pursuits  of  time  and  sense ! Enter  with 
vehemence  into  the  tumultuous  contentions  of  the  political  arena ! 
Combat,  like  gladiators,  for  popular  applause  ! Plunge  with  avidi- 
ty into  every  scheme  of  wealth,  and  every  avenue  of  honor  or 
distinction  ! Nay,  even  rush  in  crowds  at  every  prospect  of  plea- 
sure, running,  like  shadows  themselves,  after  the  shadowy  scenes 
of  idle  dissipation  and  amusement ! And  shall  we  be  told  that 
there  is  nothing  interesting  or  important  in  Benevolence  ! Oh, 
how  low  and  depraved  must  be  the  mind  that  harbours  such  a 
thought ! How  cold  and  insensate  the  heart ! How  destitute  of 
every  noble  sentiment!  How  utterly  incapable  of  a virtuous 
aspiration ! Nothing  in  Benevolence  ! Then  is  there  nothing  in 
human  misery  or  happiness . nothing  in  the  most  painful,  or  the 
most  pleasurable,  emotions  of  the  human  heart : nothing  in  na- 
ture or  religion : nothing  in  general  tranquillity  or  social  order. 
But  for  this  principle,  and  what  would  the  world  have  been ! 
Extinguish  it  now,  and  what  would  the  world  become ! He  who 


8 


estimates  correctly  all  that  is  involved  in  these  simple  propositions, 
of  human  dignity  and  felicity  on  the  one  hand,  or  humau  suffering 
and  degradation  on  the  other,  will  perceive  at  once  that  it  is  not  only 
not  a subject  of  no  value  or  attraction,  but  that  it  is  absolutely 
coextensive  in  importance  with  the  essential  welfare  of  the  human 
race.  He  who  can  neither  realize  this  importance,  nor  feel  this 
interest,  is  rather  to  be  pitied,  than  reproached,  for  the  deplorable 
obtuseness  of  his  moral  sense  ! 

The  field  of  Charity  is  always  extensive,  and  necessarily  requir- 
ing much  activity  and  labour.  Individual  efforts,  therefore,  gen- 
erally speaking,  can  accomplish  but  little  in  so  wide  a sphere,  and 
amidst  the  multiplicity  of  objects  that  demand  attention.  It  is 
only  by  united  action  that  the  friends  of  humanity  can  attain  their 
ends.  Their  operations,  as  well  as  others,  to  be  useful  or  effec- 
tive, must  always  proceed  upon  the  great  principle  of  the  division 
of  the  labour : a principle  not  less  applicable  to  moral  than  to 
physical  objects,  and  just  as  important  to  a system  of  benevolence 
as  to  the  production  of  the  rarest  specimens  of  art.  Well,  there- 
fore, have  you  acted  in  organizing  an  association  for  this  laudable 
purpose.  Reason  and  experience  both  demonstrate  that,  by 
combining  your  resources  and  dividing  your  employments,  you 
have  adopted  the  best,  if  not  the  only  mode,  by  which  individual 
donations  can  be  most  prudently  dispensed,  the  greatest  amount  of 
relief  extended,  and  the  greatest  degree  of  good  produced. 

Of  this  excellent  Association  the  present  constitutes,  I think, 
the  seventh  Anniversary.  On  the  recurrence  of  this  day,  then, 
your  minds  must  naturally  revert  to  the  years  that  are  past,  and 
to  the  manner  in  which  they  were  employed.  And  how  delight- 
ful must  such  a retrospect  be  ! How  full  of  grateful  emotion  and 
sweet  remembrance  ! During  that  period,  how  much  active  be- 
neficence have  you  displayed,  and  what  a large  amount  of  benefit 
achieved  ! How  often  have  you  carried  a mourner  to  the  foot  of 
Bethesda,  applied  the  balm  of  Gilead  to  a broken  heart,  poured 
oil  and  wine  into  the  wounds  of  sorrow,  and  smoothed  the  passage 
of  the  dying  to  the  grave  ! How  many  parents  have  you  saved  to 
their  children,  and  how  many  innocent  children  restored  to  the 


i) 


arms  of  their  distracted  parents ! IIow  many  helpless  sufferers, 
pining  in  obscurity  and  languishing  in  pain,  have  you  restored  to 
hedth,  and  strength,  and  usefulness;  and  not  only  restored  to 
themselves  and  their  families,  hut  made,  new  beings , and  put  new 
songs  into  their  mouths , by  their  conversion  unto  God  ! Perhaps 
some  of  those  objects  ha  1 once  seen  better  and  happier  days  ! 
Perhaps  they  had  possessed  an  independent  competence,  or  had 
even  been  surrounded  by  the  luxuries  of  life,  but  had  suddenly 
been  precipitated  from  wealth  to  penury,  and  from  comfort  to 
distress  ! Perhaps,  when  you  saw  them,  they  were  not  only  con- 
tending with  the  pains  of  poverty,  but  with  the  bitter  anguish  of 
a wounded  spirit,  and  therefore  required  for  their  recovery,  not  so 
much  the  skill  of  a physician,  as  the  soothing  appliances  of  sym- 
pathy, and  the  sweet  consolations  of  religion  ! Perhaps  some  of 
them  were  emigrants — far  from  their  native  land — far  from  their 
kindred  and  their  friends — separated,  by  a boundless  ocean,  from 
all  who  would  rejoice  at  their  welfare,  or  weep  at  their  decease — 
and  who,  but  far  you,  would  h ive  lived  unknown,  and  died  unpi- 
tied ! And  many  of  them,  doubtless,  were  born  in  our  own  country, 
or  even  in  our  own  city — reduced,  by  vice  or  misfortune,  to  the 
depths  of  obscurity  and  indigence — strangers  in  their  own  natal 
place — outcasts  in  their  own  community — and  who,  but  for  you, 
would  have  had  no  kind  friend  to  mitigate  their  pain,  no  cheering 
voice  to  sustain  them  in  the  dark  hour  of  death,  no  friend  to  follow 
their  remains,  no  light  to  guide  them  beyond  the  gloomy  precincts 
of  the  grave  ! All  these,  however,  you  attended  and  benefij/ed 
with  the  true  fervour  of  Christian  affection!  All  these  you  watched 
over,  like  ministering  spirits,  renewing  the  physical  abilities  of 
some,  causing  others  to  rejoice  in  the  light  of  life,  and  enabling 
others  to  find  that  to  die  is  gain.  Yes,  my  friends,  how  many  a 
worthy  and  industrious  man  was  some  u lhappy  being  who,  but 
for  you,  would  have  flown  for  refuge  to  despair,  and  closed  his 
sorrows  and  his  life  in  crime  ! Flow  many  a pious  Christian  was 
some  blasphemous  wretch  whom  your  charity  snatched  as  a brand 
from  the  burning,  and  who,  but  for  you,  would  have  gone  to  eter- 
nity with  curses  on  his  lips ! How  manv  a glorified  saint,  now 
2 


10 


rejoicing  around  the  throne  of  God,  with  palms  in  his  hands  and 
a crown  upon  his  head,  was  some  poor  prodigal  son,  who,  but  for 
you,  would  never  have  returned  to  his  Father's  house,  nor  tasted  the 
riches  of  redeeming  love!  How  delightful  then  must  this  retrospect 
be  ! Delightful,  whether  as  relates  to  yourselves,  or  to  the  objects 
of  your  kindness ; whether  you  reflect  that  charity  coverelh  a mul- 
titude of  sins,  or  only  remember  that  He  who  convcrteth  a sinner, 
saveth  a soul  from  death  ! 

The  present  occasion,  however,  not  only  invites  you  to  recall 
and  enjoy  the  fields  you  have  occupied  and  the  conquests  you  have 
won,  but  it  urges  you  to  look  forward  also,  and  to  press  on,  with 
renewed  energy  and  ardour,  to  the  fields  and  labours  that  lie  be- 
fore you.  You  mu3t  not  be  weary  of  well  doing.  Much  as  you 
have  done,  much  more  remains  to  be  accomplished.  Charity  is 
not  the  work  of  a day,  or  a year,  but  it  is  a race  set  before  us, 
which  must  be  patiently  run.  The  objects  already  relieved,  nu- 
merous as  they  may  be,  are  but  few  to  those  you  may  yet  be 
called  upon  to  succour.  The  poor  you  will  always  have  with  you, 
and  probably  in  increasing  numbers,  and,  therefore,  there  will 
always  be  ample  ground,  and  abundant  motive,  for  the  exercise 
of  charity. 

According  to  your  Constitution,  your  Society  was  established 
for  the  relief  of  the  sick  poor ! Here,  then,  in  the  very  instrument 
of  your  organization,  is  an  emphatic  declaration  of  the  motives  in 
which  it  had  its  origin.  You  looked  around  upon  the  community, 
and  you  saw  that  man  is,  indeed,  born  to  sorrow  as  the  sparks  fly 
upwards.  Wherever  you  cast  your  eyes,  you  beheld  the  silent 
tear,  or  heard  the  heaving  sigh,  as  it  trickled  down  the  care  worn 
cheek,  or  burst  from  the  overcharged  breast,  of  the  helpless 
children  of  affliction.  Your  hearts  melted  within  you  at  the  sight, 
and  you  piously  determined  to  spare  no  exertion,  not  only  to  re- 
lieve their  temporal  wants,  but,  with  the  blessing  of  God,  to  con- 
vert the  sorrow  of  this  world  that  worketh  death,  into  that  godly 
sorrow  that  producelli  salvation.  Now  what  stronger  motives  can 
possibly  be  urged  to  induce  you  to  continue  in  this  holy  cause  ! 
To  relieve  the  poor  ! And  what  is  poverty  ! Take  an  unhappy 


11 


being,  with  a dependent  family,  for  whom  lie  is  unable  to  provide 
— with  helpless  children,  clamouring  for  food,  and  tearing  his 
heartstrings  with  the  moans  of  hunger — to  whom  the  sun  brings 
no  relief  by  day,  and  from  whose  miserable  couch  sleep  Hies  by 
night — whose  body  is  worn  down  by  fruitless  toil,  and  who  carries 
about  him,  wherever  he  goes  and  whatever  he  docs,  a corroding 
sorrow,  which,  “ like  a worm  in  the  bud,”  preys  upon  his  heart, 
and  drinks  up  the  vital  spirits  of  his  soul  ( This  is  poverty  ! And 
is  not  this  enough  ! Is  not  this  sutficient  of  itself  to  excite  the  sym- 
pathy of  a feeling  mind  ! What  then  must  it  be,  to  be  not  only 
poor,  but  sick  ! To  be  compelled  to  struggle,  not  only  with  the 
wretchedness  of  want  but  the  anguish  of  disease — to  lie  upon 
some  miserable  pallet,  perhaps  upon  a naked  tloor,  destitute  of 
all  aid  or  comfort,  racked  by  torment,  inflamed  by  fever,  with  no 
pitying  hand  to  cool  the  parched  tongue,  nor  even  perhaps,  to 
close  the  dying  eye  ! This  it  is  to  be  poor  and  sick  ! And  can  it 
be  necessary  to  deepen  this  picture,  by  introducing  new  objects  of 
affliction,  or  to  represent  the  unfortunate  as  the  father  of  a fam- 
ily', and  to  surround  his  bed  with  those,  whose  lives  are  bound  up 
in  his,  and  from  whom  their  only  earthly  stay  is  about  to  be  re- 
moved forever  ! No,  my  friends,  you  require  no  such  descriptions. 
You  have  often  visited  such  abodes,  and  relieved  such  objects,  and 
therefore  can  much  more  readily  conceive  such  scenes,  than  I 
describe  them.  Permit  me  to  remind  you,  however,  that  the 
same  considerations  which  originally  induced  you  to  enter  on  this 
sacred  work,  still  exist  in  all  their  force,  entreating  and  persuad- 
ing you,  not  only  to  renew,  but  to  increase  your  efforts.  These  con- 
siderations relate  both  to  yourselves,  and  to  the  objects  who 
require  your  aid.  You  know,  by  your  own  experience,  that  there 
is  a sadness  of  the  countenance  by  xohich  the  heart  is  improved,  and 
that  it  is  better  to  go  to  the  house  of  mourning,  than  to  the  house  of 
feasting.  You  know,  also,  by  your  own  happy  consciousness  of 
the  fact,  that  whoso  walereth  others,  shall  himself  be  watered,  and 
you  carry  in  your  bosoms  a precious  foretaste  of  a rich  reward, 
in  the  animating  conviction  that  you  have  so  far  observed  the 
golden  rule  of  doing  unto  others,  as  you  would  that  they  should  do 


12 


unto  you.  For  your  own  sakes,  then,  you  will  not  relinquish  this 
happy  experience,  by  now  retiring  from  the  field,  after  having  so 
long  put  your  hands  to  the  plough.  You  will  not  now  cast  off  the 
divine  assurance  that  he,  xeho  giveth  to  the  poor,  lendelli  to  the  Lord, 
nor  forfeit  the  treasure  already  laid  up  in  heaven,  by  ceasing  now  to 
improve  the  talents  committed  to  your  charge.  You  well  know 
that  sympathy  with  the  unfortunate  is  as  important  to  yourselves, 
as  it  is  to  them  : and  th^t  it  is  not  less  your  interest  to  cultivate  it, 
for  your  own  personal  happiness  and  spiritual  advancement,  than 
it  is  your  duty,  as  men,  to  render  the  services  of  humanity  to  your 
fellow  creatures  in  distress.  Indeed  there  is  no  motive,  selfish  or 
liberal,  of  pleasure  or  profit,  of  reward  in  this  world  or  the  hope  of 
reward  hereafter,  that  does  not  urge  you  to  unflinching  and 
animated  perseverance  in  your  benevolent  career.  But  these  arc 
not  the  only  inducements  to  persistance — there  are  others,  equally 
cogent,  that  relate  exclusively  to  the  poor,  and  arise  not  only 
from  the  sufferings,  but  the  tendencies,  of  their  unfortunate  con- 
dition. Sad  as  poverty  is,  under  any  circumstances  whatever,  it 
is  peculiarly  deplorable  when  unsupported  by  religion.  In  all 
such  cases,  its  natural  and  almost  irresistible  effect  is,  to  deaden 
the  affections,  and  to  brutalize  the  heart.  It  is  for  this  reason 
that  the  abodes  of  the  poor  are  so  frequently  the  habitations  of 
cruelty,  and  the  haunts  of  vice.  Yielding  to  the  strong  temptations 
of  necessity,  or  sinking  under  the  heavy  load  of  an  insupportable 
life,  they  either  rush  to  the  commission  of  unlawful  acts,  or  plunge 
into  intemperance  as  a refuge  from  their  woes,  and  thus  hurry  on, 
through  a brief  and  desperate  career,  to  an  untimely  and  an  igno- 
minious end.  This  then  is  the  proper  field  for  charity,  and  par- 
ticularly when  it  finds  the  victim  of  poverty  on  the  bed  of  sickness. 
Of  all  others,  that  is  the  time  for  the  gentle  offices  of  kindness. 
Sickness  is  always  favourable  to  the  impressions  of  religion.  The 
hour  of  affliction  is  the  hour  of  conscience.  It  is  then  that  the 
min  1 recalls  most  forcibly  the  misdeeds  of  the  life,  and  the  heart  is 
most  disposed  to  contrition  and  amendment.  It  is  then,  when 
the  world  is  shut  out,  when  time  appears  rapidly  converging  to 
eternity,  and  the  soul,  retiring  within  itself,  reflects  upon  the 
solemn  realities  of  a future  state,  it  is  then  that  he,  who  ministers 


13 


to  the  body,  may  also  cleanse  the  soul  of  “the  perilous  stuff” 
that  preys  upon  it.  1 lcre  then  it  is  that  Benevolence  shines  in  all 
its  godlike  purity  and  lustre.  It  seeks  out  the  lonely  chamber 
of  the  sufferer — enters  the  dark  region  of  despair  and  death — and 
while,  with  every  tender  art,  it  soothes  his  feelings  and  relieves  his 
wants,  it  looks  with  pity  on  his  sin-sick  soul,  leads  him  gently  to 
that  heavenly  fountain  opened  for  uncleanness,  and  revives  and 
saves  him  in  its  healing  stream.  Oh  how  lovely  is  this  virtue  ! 
How  pious  is  this  office  ! And  can  you  think,  for  a moment,  then, 
of  relaxing  your  exertions  in  this  sacred  cause  ! Are  you  tired  of 
being  the  almoners  of  God,  and  the  honoured  instruments  of 
salvation!  Or  are  the  poor  already  so  deeply  indebted  to  your  kind- 
ness, that  you  deem  it  unnecessary  to  strive  further  for  their  bene- 
fit ! Oh,  remember  that  the  promise  is  only  to  the  faithful — and 
that  unless  you  rea’ly  continue  faithful  over  feio  things,  you  cannot 
expect  to  be  made  rulers'  over  many.  Remember  that  of  him,  to 
whom  much  is  given,  much  will  be  required ; and  that  as  your  prop- 
erty is  not  your  own,  but  God’s,  whose  stewards  you  are,  so  every 
unfaithful  steward  shall  be  beaten  with  stripes.  Gird  up  your  loins 
then  and  trim  your  lamps.  Let  the  flame  of  charity  burn  more 
vividly  than  ever  in  your  breasts.  Let  the  deeds  of  the  past  only 
operate  as  a stimulus  to  greater  efforts  for  the  future.  Stop  not 
at  the  things  that  are  behind,  but  press  on  to  those  that  are  before. 
While  the  poor  bless  you  now,  for  the  good  you  have  already 
done,  let  the  stream  of  your  beneficence  flow  more  copiously 
hereafter,  that  their  blessings  may  thicken  as  the  years  roll  on. 
And  while  many  an  eye  now  beams  with  gratitude,  and  many  a 
bosom  sings  for  joy,  at  the  remembrance  of  the  past,  let  it  be  your 
care  to  prove,  by  the  records  of  the  future,  that  your  Society  is, 
in  deed  and  in  truth,  an  oasis  in  the  desart — a perennial  fountain 
in  a dreary  land — a life-giving  object,  to  which,  like  the  brazen 
serpent  in  the  wilderness,  the  children  of  affliction  may  look  up 
and  live ! 

And,  having  said  thus  much,  it  is  unnecessary,  perhaps,  to 
pursue  the  subject : but  as  the  cause  of  Benevolence,  like  every 
other  good  cause,  has  encountered,  and  is  still  destined  to  encoun- 


14 


ter,  opposition,  it  cannot  be  improper,  not  only  to  remove  the 
objections  urged  against  it,  but  to  exhibit  the  grounds  upon  which 
it  claims  the  assent  of  the  understanding  and  the  devotion  of  the 
heart. 

As  strange  and,  indeed,  unnatural,  as  it  may  seem,  considering 
the  age  in  which  we  live,  there  are  those  who  not  only  would  do 
nothing  for  the  poor  themselves,  but  would,  if  possible,  arrest  all 
charitable  action  on  the  part  of  others.  Philanthropists,  who 
consider  poverty  rather  as  a crime  to  be  visited  with  punishment, 
than  a misfortune  entitled  to  assistance  : Legislators,  who  rather 
than  not  display  a profound  acquaintance  with  political  economy, 
would  stop  up  even  the  pitiful  and  sluggish  rills  of  public  charity 
itself!  The  doctrine  of  ihese  economists  is,  that  the  only  tendency 
of  charity  is  to  encourage  pauperism,  and  generate  idleness  and 
vice,  and  therefore  that  it  ought  to  be  repressed  upon  the  principle 
of  general  utility.  They  regard  every  act  of  humanity  as  an  in- 
jury to  the  public,  and  would  therefore  have  the  unfortunate  to 
perish  for  the  public  good.  They  hold  that  the  poor  are  useless, 
and  therefore  unworthy  of  protection;  that  they  are  unproductive, 
and  therefore  have  no  light  to  the  enjoyment  of  the  fruits  of 
industry.  Now  to  all  this  it  is  sufficient  to  reply,  that  no  system, 
however  excellent,  could  stand  for  a moment,  if  an  occasional 
perversion  or  misapplication  of  its  principles  were  sufficient  to 
destroy  it.  An  argument  against  the.abuse  of  a principle  is  no 
argument  against  the  principle  itself.  It  is  evident  that  we  must 
either  aid  the  poor,  or  suffer  them  to  perish.  This  is  the  unans- 
werable reply  to  all  the  sophistry  against  public  charity.  But 
public  charity  is  not  sufficient.  There  are  many  who  require 
assistance  besides  the  inmates  of  an  asylum  or  a hospital ; many 
worthy  and  industrious  individuals,  who,  with  occasional  aid,  may 
maintain  their  families  comfortably,  and  rear  up  their  children  for 
useful  occupations,  but  who  are  often  prevented  from  labouring 
by  illness,  and  often  unable,  even  in  health,  to  procure  adequate 
employment.  These  may  not  be  the  proper  objects  of  legal  or 
compulsory  charity,  but  they  arc  certainly  proper  objects  for 
Christian  benevolence.  Where  the  law  stops,  there  private  kind- 


15 


ness  should  begin.  Where  the  cold  stream  of  legislative  bounty 
freezes,  there  the  warm  spirit  of  the  Cospcl  moves,  supplies  the 
defect,  and  carries  on  the  work  What  if  charity  has  been  some- 
times misapplied,  or  acted  as  a premium  to  idleness  and  vice  ! 
These  are  errors  or  evils  that  may  be  avoided  or  corrected  : but 
better  that  unworthy  objects  should  deceive  us,  that  that  merito- 
rious individuals  should  receive  no  aid.  Better,  far  better,  that  a 
little  charity  should  be  thrown  away,  than  that  the  waters  should 
cease  to  flow,  or  the  holy  fountain  be  extinct.  No:  let  it  fall,  like  the 
gentle  rain,  upon  the  evil  and  the  good.  Let  others,  if  they  please, 
speculate  upon  the  impolicy  of  benevolence — be  it  ours  to  feel  its 
spirit,  and  act  upon  its  principles.  Let  others  refuse  to  extend 
relief,  until  they  are  satisfied  upon  everypoint — be  it  ours  to  as- 
sist the  sufferer  first,  and  then  to  inquire,  if  need  be,  into  the  causes 
of  his  wretchedness.  But  enough  on  this  point.  Why  analyze 
theories  unworthy  of  analysis,  or  refute  objections  that  refute 
themselves  ! lie  who  would  eradicate  benevolence  from  the 
social  system,  because  of  occasional  injuries  or  impositions,  would 
extinguish  the  sun  because  it  may  generate  pestilence,  or  chain  up 
the  wind  because  it  may  bear  it  on  its  wings  ! 

Let  us  turn,  now,  to  the  claims  of  benevolence  : and,  in  con- 
sidering these,  let  me  ask  your  attention  to  a brief  delineation  of 
its  character,  its  motives  and  obligations,  its  pleasures  and  rewards! 

What  then  is  its  character  ! I answer,  in  the  first  place,  that  it 
is  the  purest  Patriotism.  There  are  many  modes  in  which  men 
may  exhibit  public  spirit,  but  none  in  which  they  can  display  it  in 
such  true  purity  and  beauty,  as  in  systematic  attention  to  the  poor. 
Every  community  consists,  emphatically,  of  two  great  classes — 
those  who  require  assistance,  and  those  who  are  able  to  afford  it. 
Now  I will  not  deny  that  the  resources  of  the  rich  may  be  usefully 
and  patriotically  applied  to  many  an  enterprize  that  has  no  rela- 
tion whatever  to  the  poor.  Nor  is  it  an  objection  to  a public 
spirited  undertaking  that  even  the  public  accommodation  is  ren- 
dered subordinate  to  individual  advantage.  The  wealth  of  a 
community  consists  of  the  wealth  of  individuals,  and  the  happiness 
of  the  whole  depends  essentially  on  the  prosperity  of  its  parts. 


16 


Every  work  of  public  utility,  therefore,  deserves  commendation, 
however  its  primary  object  may  be  the  personal  benefit  of  its 
projectors.  After  all,  however,  this  kind  of  patriotism,  useful  and 
advantageous  as  it  is,  can  only  be  regarded  as  an  enlightened 
self-interest.  The  patriotism  of  benevolence  is  of  a far  higher 
and  more  estimable  character.  It  is  perfectly  generous  and  dis- 
interested, benefiting  others  without  reference  to  self.  If  he 
then,  deserves  to  be  considered  a benefactor  of  society,  who  pro- 
jects a valuable  scheme,  how  much  more  does  he,  who  gives  life 
to  many  that  are  ready  to  perish;  and  if  he%is  entitled  to  the  proud 
appellation  of  a patriot,  who  sustains  public  liberty  by  his  elo- 
quence, or  even  dies  for  his  country  on  the  field  of  battle,  how 
much  more  is  he,  who  mingles  freely  with  the  children  of  adver- 
sity, devotes  his  resources  and  his  efforts  to  their  welfare,  and 
diffuses  amongst  them  the  oil  of  joy  for  mourning,  and  the  garment 
of  praise  Jor  the  spirit  of  heaviness  ! — And  benevolence  is  fame  : 
the  richest,  purest,  most  enviable  fame.  It  is  emphatically  of 
good  report.  It  is  lovely  in  the  sight  of  God  and  man.  The 
favorite  attribute  of  Deity,  it  is  the  crowning  ornament  of  his  fol- 
lowers on  earth.  Unlike  all  other  fame,  it  maketh  rich  and  addeth 
no  sorrow.  Who  would  not  covet  a reputation  so  pure,  and  exalt- 
ed, and  enduring  ! Who  would  not  prefer  the  name  of  a Howard 
or  a Wilberforce  to  all  the  distinction  that  wealth  or  public  favour 
can  confer  ! What  is  the  honor  of  a statesman  but  the  ephemeral 
breath  of  popular  applause,  often  acquired  without  desert,  and  still 
more  often  lost  without  a fault ! What  the  renown  of  a warrior 
but  that  of  a destroyer  of  his  species — whose  theatre  of  glory  is  a 
field  of  blood — whose  crown  of  laurel  is  steeped  in  the  tears  ol 
widows,  and  of  orphans!  Or  what  is  even  the  fame  of  a scholar  or 
philosopher,  high  and  desirable  as  that  fame  is  which  proceeds 
from  the  cultivation  of  literature  and  science,  or  the  successful 
promotion  of  the  arts  of  peace,  what  is  even  that  to  the  delight!  ul 
reputation  of  a good  man,  who  is  compared  in  scripture  to  a tree, 
with  living  waters  at  its  roots,  and  of  whom  it  is  said. 

Fresh  as  the  leaf,  his  name  shall  live, 

His  works  arc  heavenly  fruits  ! 


17 


Nor  is  this  all.  Benevolence  is  luxury — the  most  refined  enjoy- 
ment of  the  heart — the  most  exquisite  banquet  of  the  soul.  Who 
would  not  desire  to  possess  this  feeling,  and  who  may  not  if  he 
would  ! Man  is  essentially  a creature  of  habits,  and  good  habits 
may  be  acquired  as  easily  as  bad.  The  practice  of  doing  good 
will  as  surely  engender  a generous  disposition,  as  a systematic 
career  of  profligacy  will  sear  the  conscience  and  indurate  the 
heart.  Virtue,  as  well  as  vice,  by  being  frequently  embraced, 
becomes  a source  of  pleasuie  and  a fixed  principle  ot  action. 
Attend  to  the  poor,  no  matter  from  what  motive,  and  you  will 
soon  find  that  the  heart  and  the  hand  will  go  together.  Now  the 
possession  of  a generous  heart  is  a treasure  in  itself,  and  this  trea- 
suie  it  is  in  the  power  of  every  individual  to  acquire.  Let  those, 
then,  who  are  blessed  in  their  basket  and  their  store,  only  contract 
the  habit  of  giving  steadily  and  liberally,  and  they  will  soon  lealize 
that  there  is  even  more  truth,  than  poetry,  in  loving  the  luxury  of 
dams'  good  ! 

And  now,  what  are  the  motives  and  obligations  to  the  cul- 
tivation of  this  principle  ! They  are  too  various  to  be  noticed, 
except  with  the  utmost  brevity — and  yet  too  important  to  be 
entirely  overlooked.  Men  should  be  kind  to  each  other,  be- 
cause man  is  essentially  a dependent  creature.  We  are  born  for 
the  happiness  of  each  other.  The  whole  social  system  is  but  a 
chain  of  reciprocal  dependence,  the  poor  hanging  upon  the  rich, 
and  the  rich  upon  the  poor.  While  the  poor,  therefore,  should 
always  manifest  their  gratitude  for  every  act  of  kindness  by  the 
rich,  the  latter  should  always  do  all  that  they  can,  by  employment, 
counsel,  or  gratuity,  to  ameliorate  the  condition  and  promote  the 
comfort  of  the  former.  As  neither  can  do  without  the  other,  so 
they  should  be  governed,  mutually,  by  the  kindest  feelings. 
Again,  men  should  be  charitable,  because  of  the  uncertainty  of 
life.  The  work  of  relieving  the  necessitous,  should  no  more  be 
postponed  than  any  other  of  which  we  shall  be  required  to 
render  an  account.  To  say  nothing  of  the  injury  which  the  poor 
themselves  must  suffer,  by  an  unwise  procrastination  upon  our 
part,  we  never  may  be  able  to  repair  the  fault.  There  is  no  con- 

3 


18 


i lenient  season  in  charity,  any  more  than  in  repentance,  or  in  any 
other  duty.  The  injunction  in  the  one  case  as  well  as  in  the 
other,  is,  now  is  the  accepted  time — work,  while  it  is  called  to  day, 
Jor  the  hour  cometh  in  which  no  man  can  work.  Let  us  be  diligent, 
then,  in  the  exercise  of  charity  now, 

While  the  lamp  holds  out  to  bum, 

lest  the  crown  of  life  be  suddenly  removed  forever  from  our  reach, 
and  we  find,  when  the  dreadful  knowledge  will  be  of  no  avail,  that 

Graves  can  never  praise  the  Lord, 

For  all  is  dust  and  silence  there. 

Again,  men  should  be  charitable,  because  of  the  vicissitudes  of 
fortune.  We  are  not  only  dependent  upon  God,  in  whom  we  live 
and  move,  and  therefore  daily  liable  to  the  visitations  of  his  provi- 
dence, but  upon  a thousand  circumstances  beyond  our  control, 
any  one  of  which,  in  the  twinkling  of  an  eye,  may  break  down  our 
strong  holds  and  remove  our  rock,  convert  affluence  to  penury, 
and  comfort  to  distress.  We  live  literally  in  a world  of  change. 
The  revolving  seasons  themselves  do  not  carry  us  with  more  cer- 
tainty or  frequency  from  the  fragrant  gales  and  delicious  fruits  of 
summer  to  the  rigorous  blasts  and  chilling  embrace  of  winter,  than 
thousands  are  daily  hurried  from  the  genial  sunshine  of  prosperity 
to  the  keen  and  cutting  coldness  of  adversity.  All  is  uncertainty, 
all  mutation.  Riches  make  to  themselves  icings,  and flee  away.  Of 
the  truth  of  this  sacred  apothegm,  our  own  city  now  adds  another 
to  the  long  catalogue  of  melancholy  proofs.  Where  can  we  turn 
our  eyes,  and  not  perceive,  not  only  Houses  of  God  in  ashes,  but 
hundreds  of  habitations,  late  the  abodes  of  cheerful  industry  and 
ease,  all  now  lying  in  one  undistinguishable  mass  of  ruin,  and 
exhibiting,  like  a city  of  the  dead,  a frightful  scene  of  desolation  ! 
And  what  is  the  moral  of  this  painful  scene  ! What  the  lesson  it 
should  imprint  upon  our  minds  ! Shall  it  only  excite  us  to  a mo- 
mentary display  of  feeling  ! Shall  it  only  produce  an  evanescent 
sympathy,  a mere  passing  contribution,  but  no  effect  whatever  upon 
our  future  conduct ! No  , when  the  judgments  of  God  arc  abroad , 
men  should  learn  righteousness.  We  should  not  only  realize,  in 
such  a scene  as  this,  the  dreadful  instability  of  human  affairs,  but 


19 


it  should  operate  as  a powerful  incentive  to  the  steady  exercise  of 
charity,  while  we  have  the  power  to  afford  it  It  is  a solemn  and 
a warning  voice.  It  teaches  us,  most  impressively,  that  all  is 
vanity.  But  a few  weeks  since,  and  those,  whose  dwellings  have 
been  scattered  to  the  winds,  were  as  able  as  we  are  to  render 
benefit  to  others : to-morrow,  we  may,  like  them,  be  hapless 
objects  of  public  commiseration.  Let  us  then  determine  to  do 
all  the  good  we  can,  while  we  have  ability  to  toil  in  the  vineyard, 
lest  the  period  suddenly  overtake  us  when  we  can  work  no  longer. 
Again,  benevolence  is  recommended  as  a Christian  virtue.  The 
Scriptures  abound  with  exhortations  to  its  practice.  Our  Saviour 
has  not  only  given  us  the  most  impressive  admonitions,  but  was 
himself  the  good  Samaritan,  whose  admirable  conduct  he  has  left 
us  as  a model.  No  one  then  can  be  really  a Christian,  whose 
heart  is  destitute  of  this  ennobling  principle.  The  mere  donation 
of  money  is  not  charity.  Its  essence  consists  in  the  motive  of 
the  donor.  If  we  would  feel,  in  our  hearts,  that  it  is  better  to  give 
than  to  receive,  we  must  also  know,  in  our  hearts,  that,  in  giving, 
we  sincerely  desire  to  honor  the  Lord  with  our  substance.  Ostenta- 
tion in  charity  is  like  hypocrisy  in  religion.  It  may  relieve  the 
afflicted,  and  yet  condemn  the  reliever,  as  one  individual  may 
save  the  soul  of  another,  and  yet  lose  his  own.  The  true  motive 
is  love  to  God,  as  well  as  love  to  man.  Whatever  ye  do,  whether 
ye  eat  or  drink , it  must  all  be  done  to  the  glory  of  God.  If  this  mo- 
tive be  wanting,  the  most  libera]  acts  are  but  sounding  brass  and 
tinkling  cymbal.  The  widow’s  mites  were  commended  by  the 
Saviour,  because  of  the  pure  source  from  which  her  humble  gift 
proceeded,  whilst  the  large  contributions  of  the  Pharisees  were 
condemned,  because  they  were  only  offerings  at  the  shrine  of 
vanity.  Let  us  then  see  to  the  motives  of  our  actions.  Let  us 
not  merely  make  a show  of  benevolence  with  our  hands,  or 
applaud  it  with  our  tongues,  but  let  us  endeavour  to  possess  it,  as 
a living  principle,  a live  coal  from  the  altar,  within  our  hearts. 
Then,  and  then  only,  will  our  alms  and  prayers,  like  those  of  Cor- 
nelius, come  up  as  a memorial  before  God,  and  be  had  in  remem- 
brance at  his  throne  of  grace.  Again,  and  “though  last  not  least,” 


20 


benevolence  is  enjoined  as  a Christian  duty.  In  our  reflections 
upon  this  subject,  we  are  apt  to  regard  it  too  much  as  a mere 
human  instinct,  or  something  estimable  in  the  sight  of  men,  and 
too  little  as  a positive  Christian  obligation.  It  is  in  the  latter  point 
of  view,  however,  that  it  ought  always  to  be  presented  to  the  con- 
templation of  professors  of  religion.  It  is  not  optional  with 
us  whether  we  will  practice  it  or  not.  We  are  expressly  com- 
manded to  perform  it.  It  enters  essentially  into  the  composition 
of  the  Christian  character.  It  constitutes  a large  portion  of  the 
field  we  are  required  to  occupy,  and  of  the  armour  we  are  requir- 
ed to  wear,  and  of  the  cross  we  are  required  to  carry.  How 
direct  and  explicit  is  the  precept,  If  ye  love  me,  love  one  another : 
and  how  awful  the  denunciation,  If  ye  have  not  the  spirit  of  Christ, 
ye  are  none  of  his.  Let  us  then  enter  the  field  allotted  for  our 
labour,  and  cheerfully  bear  the  heat  and  burden  of  the  day.  Let 
us  put  on  the  whole  armour  of  God,  and  go  forth,  as  children  of  the 
light,  to  our  masters  work  : and,  as  he  has  told  us  that  love  is  the 
fulfilling  of  the  law,  let  us  strive  to  catch  his  spirit,  that  we  may 
take  up  our  cross  with  pleasure,  and  go  about,  as  he  did,  doing 
good  to  men.  In  one  word,  let  us  do  our  duty  in  the  very  spirit 
of  the  divine  injunction,  that,  by  loving  one  another,  bearing:  one 
anothers  burthens,  and  thus  fulfilling  the  law  of  Christ,  we  may 
inherit  the  blessings  of  his  kingdom,  and  go,  from  our  labours 
of  love  on  earth,  to  those  heavenly  hills. 

Where  joy,  like  morning  dew,  distils, 

And  all  the  air  is  love  ! 

And  this  brings  me  to  the  consideration  of  the  pleasures  and  re- 
wards connected  with  benevolence.  The  difficulty  here,  however, 
is  not  to  enumerate,  but  to  select  them.  God  never  recommended 
a practice,  nor  enjoined  a duty,  without  an  adequate  and  tippro- 
priate  reward : and  as,  of  all  Christian  virtues,  charity  is  said  to 
be  the  greatest,  so  are  its  rewards  not  only  abundant  but  exceeding 
great.  In  the  first  place,  the  habitual  performance  of  good  deeds 
imparts  a satisfaction  to  the  virtuous  mind  which  nothing  else  can 
inspire.  As  vice  always  bears  in  its  bosom  its  own  punishment, 
so  does  virtue  its  own  enjoyment.  Avarice  may  hoard  its  sinning 


21 


heaps,  or  close  its  flinty  hand,  but  it  is  still  a painful  feeling,  and 
often  productive  of  the  bitterest  remorse.  Benevolence,  on  the 
contrary,  produces  a calm  serenity,  a delightful  sunshine  of  the 
soul,  which  the  xcorld  can  neither  give  nor  take  away.  He,  whose 
heart  is  hardened  to  the  poor,  not  only  possesses  no  solid  peace 
through  life,  (for  how,  indeed,  can  he  be  happy 

Whom  none  can  love,  whom  none  can  thank, 

Creation’s  blot,  creation’s  blank,) 

but  he  is  also  classed  amongst  those  of  whom  the  awful  sentence  is 
recorded  that  they  shall  never  enter  into  the  presence  of  the  Lord. 
He,  on  the  contrary,  whose  hand  is  open  as  day  to  melting  charity, 
bids  farewell  to  every  fear,  carrying  within  him,  as  he  does,  that 
heaven  of  the  heart,  which  is  the  assured  and  blissful  antepastof 
the  heaven  that  awaits  him.  And  he  not  only  enjoys  his  own 
approbation,  but  is  beloved  and  honoured  by  all  around  him. 
The  wise  and  the  virtuous  applaud  him.  Even  those,  who  care 
nothing  for  religion,  respect  and  commend  him  for  adorning  the 
doctrine  he  professes.  And  he  secures  the  grateful  attachment 
of  the  objects  of  his  bounty.  Nothing  melts  the  heart  like  kind- 
ness. Nothing  attaches  one  individual  so  strongly  to  another  as 
acts  of  beneficence.  Ingratitude  is  unnatural,  and  therefore  not 
often  found,  at  least  amongst  the  poor.  He  who  would  injure  a 
benefactor  would  be  capable  of  sacrilege.  Gratitude,  on  the  con- 
trary, is  both  natural  and  lovely.  The  child  of  benevolence,  it 
adheres  to  its  parent  with  filial  affection,  hanging  on  its  looks, 
catching  all  its  feelings,  giving  tear  for  tear,  and  smile  for  smile ; 
or,  as  the  humble  ivy  entwines  and  adorns  the  stately  tree  that  pro- 
tects it,  so  do  the  poor  cling  closely  to  their  benefactor,  spreading 
roses  in  his  path,  and  pouring  blessings  on  his  head.  And,  above 
all,  he  enjoys  the  approval  of  his  God.  Blessed  is  he  that  consid- 
er eth  the  poor.  II is  own  heart  assures  him  of  this  blessedness. 
Often  does  he  enquire  of  the  oracles  of  truth, 

“ Who  shall  inhabit  in  thy  hill, 

“ O God  of  holiness,” 

and  as  often  is  Le  cheered  and  directed  by  the  divine  response, 
that  it  is  the  man. 


22 


“ To  whom  the  supplicating  eye 

“ Was  never  raised  in  vain.” 

And  thus  he  goes  on  his  way,  rejoicing.  All  his  emotions  and 
reflections  are  pleasantness  and  peace.  He  knows  that  he  has  not 
lived  in  vain.  He  knows  that  he  has  saved  many,  not  only  from 
present  oppression,  but  from  coming  wrath.  He  reviews  his  course 
with  pleasure,  and  looks  forward  to  eternity  with  hope.  He  trusts 
and  believes  that  a crown  of  life  is  laid  up  for  him,  which  his  Lord 
will  give  him,  ichen  he  makes  up  his  jewels.  He  therefore  wel- 
comes death  as  a friend,  rather  than  dreads  him  as  an  enemy. 
He  closes  his  career,  laden  with  honor  and  with  blessings  : his 
grave  is  strewed  with  garlands  . and  thus  he  goes,  through  flow- 
ery fields  on  earth,  to  that  celestial  world,  where 

Flowers  of  Paradise 

In  rich  profusion  spring. 

Such  is  benevolence  ! Such  are  its  character,  its  obligations, 
its  pleasures,  and  rewards  ! Such  are  its  benefits  to  ourselves  and 
to  others,  and  such  its  acceptance  in  the  sight  of  God  ! Come, 
then,  let  us  all  act  in  a spirit  worthy  of  the  occasion  that  convenes 
us.  Let  us  put  away  all  pride,  and  vanity,  and  ostentation.  Let 
us  realize  our  entire  dependence  upon  God,  our  utter  unworthi- 
ness of  the  least  of  his  mercies,  and  our  solemn  obligation,  in 
gratitude  to  Him,  to  be  humane  and  generous  to  our  fellow-men. 
Let  us  remember  that  our  Redeemer,  whilst  on  earth,  was  the 
poorest  of  the  poor : that  he  became  poor,  that  ice,  through  his 
poverty,  might  be  made  rich ; and  that  he  has  taught  us,  both  by 
instruction  and  example,  not  only  to  pity,  but  by  active  exertion 
and  self  denial,  to  befriend  the  poor.  Come,  then,  let  us  feel 
that  the  ground,  on  which  we  stand,  is  holy.  Let  us  realize  that 
we  are  in  the  temple  of  benevolence.  Let  us  all  assemble  around 
her  sacred  altar.  Let  us  all  come,  with  grateful  hearts  and 
cheerful  hands,  and  lay  free  offerings  upon  it,  that  they  may 
aseend  as  a sweet-smelling  savour  to  the  throne  of  Grace.  There 
is  nothing  sectarian  or  exclusive  here.  This  Society  knows  no 
distinctions  amongst  the  sons  and  daughter  of  adversity.  If. 
embraces,  without  discrimination,  all  who  are  poor  and  sick.  In 


23 


the  true  principles  of  the  Gospel,  it  neither  knows,  nor  desiics  to 
know,  any  thing  of  a sufferer,  except  the  extent  of  his  wants,  and 
the  proper  mode  of  administering  relief.  Here,  then,  is  a common 
cause.  Here  is  an  altar  at  which  all  may  worship.  Come,  then, 
let  us  all  make  a common  oblation  to  this  common  cause,  and  offer 
it,  as  an  incense  of  sweet  and  balmy  odour,  to  our  common  God. 

And  now,  Gentlemen  of  the  Society,  having  discharged  the 
duty  you  assigned  me,  1 feel  that  it  is  time  to  bring  these  observa- 
tions to  a close.  1 cannot  conclude  them,  however,  without  re- 
minding you,  as  Christians,  of  the  heavy  responsibility  that  rests 
upon  you.  You  have  entered  into  a covenant  that  cannot  be 
broken.  The  vows  you  have  taken  are  upon  you  for  life.  The 
cause  of  God,  therefore, ^s  in  your  hands,  as  soldiers  of  the  cross, 
and  much  of  its  success  or  dishonour  depends  upon  the  manner 
in  which  you  bear  his  standard  and  fight  his  battles.  Should  you 
relax  in  your  fidelity,  either  in  the  work  of  charity  or  any  other 
work,  not  only  will  your  own  personal  piety  decline,  but  the  cause 
of  religion  will  be  greatly  injured.  If,  on  the  contrary,  you  con- 
tinue firm,  immoveable,  and  abounding  in  good  works,  every  effort 
for  the  benefit  of  others  will  react  with  a most  salutary  influence 
upon  yourselves.  I need  not  remind  you  that,  in  Christian  be- 
nevolence, there  is  that  scatlereth  and  yet  increaseth,  nor  that  to 
him  who  giveth  prudently,  it  shall  be  given  again,  full  measure, 
pressed  down,  and  running  over.  Persevere,  then,  in  your  noble 
cause.  Your  own  graces  will  be  quickened,  and  your  own  cha- 
racters confirmed.  Others  will  learn  to  imitate  your  example,  a 
generous  emulation  will  be  excited  who  shall  do  most  to  glorify 
God  by  exhibiting  the  meek  and  lovely  spirit  of  the  Saviour,  and 
thus  the  standard  of  true  piety  will  be  exalted,  and  the  cause  of 
religion  strengthened  and  diffused.  Bear  the  poor  always  on  your 
hearts.  Think  of  their  desolate  and  forlorn  condition.  Think 
how  they  travel  through  a dreary  land,  with  no  waters,  or  fruits, 
or  pastures,  to  sustain  them.  ’Tis  yours  to  supply  both  their  tem- 
poral and  spiritual  wants.  ’Tis  yours  to  convert  their  barren 
Shinar  into  a blooming  field  ! ’Tis  yours  to  provide  them  with  the 
fruits  of  Eshcol,  and  the  sweet  streams  of  Meribah.  ’Tis  yours 


24 


to  strike  the  rock,  to  revive  them  with  its  gushing  flood,  and  to 
enrich  their  desart  with  the  rose  of  Sharon.  Go  on  then,  in  your 
noble  work.  Carry  with  you,  wherever  you  go,  the  wonder 
working  rod,  and  the  banner  of  the  cross,  and  let  it  always  be 
your  aim 

“ To  mark  from  day  to  day 
“ In  generous  acts  your  radiant  way.” 

And  may  your  Society  prosper  and  increase  ! May  each  sue* 
ceeding  Anniversary  find  you  more  and  more  laden  with  the 
trophies  of  victory  ! And  when,  at  length,  you  shall  have  finished 
the  good  fight,  may  each,  and  all  of  you,  be  received,  as  good  and 
faithjul  servants,  into  that  kingdom  of  Glory  which  the  Redeemer 
has  prepared  for  those  that  love  him  ! 

There,  garlands  of  immortal  joy 
Shall  bloom  on  every  head. 

And  sorrow,  sighing,  and  distress, 

Like  shadows,  all  be  fled  ! 


FINIS. 


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